


Everybody's Got To Learn Sometime

by Moonshine_Givens



Category: Justified
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Mindfuck, Semi-Public Sex, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-22 10:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonshine_Givens/pseuds/Moonshine_Givens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raylan and Boyd find themselves in a dark road, in more ways than just one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, Gunslingers! Here we are again. First of all, MERRY CHRISTMAS! We're getting closer and closer of a new Justified and that alone is reason to celebrate. Many thanks to my beta, shadowolfhunter, who gave me the okay to publish this chapter. Also, thanks to thornfield_girl for the "go ahead!" message. You're both great!  
> There is explicit content on the last chapter, so be aware for smut!  
> Once again, sorry for all my English mistakes - not my first language, yadda yadda yadda. Hope you enjoy this!

_“Change your heart,_  
 _look around you._  
 _Change your heart:_  
 _it will astound you._  
 _I need your loving like the sunshine.”_

 

They were in the road for more than a couple hours now. Two and a half hours, if you like a bit of precision. Harlan should be around them in a couple of minutes. The car hovered through the night, and the headlights were two bright stars piercing the darkness, barely lighting the path ahead.

That was the scene: Raylan Givens driving a car towards Harlan, Kentucky, in the middle of an endless night. In the shotgun, the criminal. Or, maybe, in the shotgun, his best friend. Or yet: in the shotgun, a complete stranger, someone Raylan didn’t know at all. Who the hell was Boyd Crowder tonight?

(they used to know each other. they used to dug coal together.)

Since they weren’t going to spend much more time in the car, Raylan figured they could have this conversation. Again. One more time. Why not?

“You managed to talk your way out of jail time again, Boyd, I give you that. But if this thing with Hot Rod doesn’t end me, I’ll make sure you run out of luck, that you can bet.”

“And exactly how, pray tell, Hot Rod changing his statement would end you, Raylan?”

“How the hell do you think, Boyd? I brought you all the way to Lexington under the false notion that Hot Rod would be less a pussy and actually keep his word about tipping us…”

“By betrayin’ me…”

“By doing what is right, Boyd! You’re a murder and a criminal, and now I’m being accused of harassment for trying to arrest you! Didn’t you hear the shit that asshole was sayin’? He told my boss, Boyd, my fuckin’ boss that I forced him to give a statement against you on the first place, that I coerced him. Do you know what this fuckin’ thing can do to a marshal?”

“Raylan, I…”

“The only reason Internal Affairs won’t have a field day is that they can’t decide if I’m harassin’ your ass or if I’m a dirty lawman in your pocket, goddammit!”

Raylan actually had to stop the car, or risk crashing it against a tree. He turned the car off, breathing hard, pissed at Boyd and pissed at himself that Boyd could get to him so badly, so profoundly, still, yet.

Looking at Boyd, Raylan suddenly became desperate. Desperate because it was clear to him now that things were past the point of return: they couldn’t go back, there was no way to keep pretending they were friends still; that everything that was said and done wasn’t hurting them both. Raylan had clear in his mind that half the blame was on Boyd and his bad life decisions. But the other half… the fact he kept trying, he kept pushing, talking to Limehouse and Rodney Dunham and every lowlife to ever work in Harlan County to get to Boyd. So Raylan was desperate, because not even in the night he shot Boyd in the chest it was so clear to him that they were now sworn enemies.

That this was final and unchangeable.

How could they come to this?

(like that night in Ava’s house, Raylan couldn’t help but remember Boyd’s hand against his, twenty years ago. he could still remember the details, the way the floor shake, rocks and dirty flying, and Boyd’s hand against his.)

Some of Raylan’s desperation must have been clear in his eyes, or maybe Boyd also suddenly understood the immovable nature of their relationship as it was, because the man said:

“Raylan, do you think there’s anything we could have done in the past that wouldn’t lead us to this very moment?”

“Oh, c’mon, you won’t get philosophical on me now, will you?”

“This is not a matter of Philosophy, Raylan, it’s a matter of… a matter of wanting a second chance.”

“A second chance at what? Shootin’ me when you could?”

“No, Raylan, dammit, could you listen for a second?”

Boyd looked outside the window, frustrated and annoyed. Raylan knew he was being difficult, but there was nothing else he could be. All easiness they once had around each other was part of a dream in the past.

“Raylan.” Boyd stopped himself, took a breath, started again, still looking out. “Raylan, you have to know that… when we were kids… that I felt…”

Raylan could see Boyd taking a big breath to finally let the words out, and he decided that no, he couldn’t listen to that. Not when there was no point, no hope, no chance for them. It was too late.

“I know Boyd. I know, and I… me too, okay!” he was angry and tired, shaking all over, his hand travelling up and down in his face. “But that was then, and this is now, and we can’t change who we are now, can we?”

If Boyd had said “I wish we could”, Raylan would have tried something. He would have tried raising his hand and touching Boyd, just to see what would happen. Maybe, maybe, Raylan would start thinking about a way to get Boyd out of this mess, out of the criminal life. Maybe he would have kissed Boyd.

But Boyd didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to change. He was Ava’s lover now, King of Harlan, a Crowder man. No turning back.

“Let’s go home, Raylan.”

(in one version of this story, they get to Harlan. the next time they see each other, there are bullets and blood. in this version, they get something else.)

The car doesn’t respond when Raylan tries to start the engine. He turns the key over and over, and nothing happens. Boyd won’t look in his direction.

“The car is dead. Don’t know how that happened.”

“Did you remember to put gas?”

Raylan was to answer “What am I, an asshole?”, but he’s pretty sure he knows Boyd’s answer for that and that Boyd is only saying that so he can fuck with him.

“How far do you think we are from Harlan?”

“Let’s walk.” Boyd says, and step out of the car without stopping to check if Raylan is following.

Raylan hasn’t meant it in that way; he wanted to know how far they were from Harlan so he could call someone to come get them. Of course, Raylan also knew Boyd would be very pleased if Raylan didn’t follow him, and that could actually be for the best. They would end this stupid evening and part ways. But as Raylan watched Boyd’s figure moving towards the night, hands in his coat pockets, something told him the night wasn’t over yet. That something else was left unsaid.

Besides, it isn’t like this is the first time he walked this same road with Boyd.

He found a flashlight and rushed to catch up with Boyd.

“No signal.” Raylan said, even though he hasn’t checked. “But I suppose it’s a twenty minute walk.”

“Walkin’ is good for your heart, Raylan.”

Raylan wasn’t sure what he was going to answer, but they heard a gun being fired somewhere in the woods on the right. The sound made both men stop, and Raylan put his hand over his holster. His flashlight wasn’t strong enough to show him much of the woods.

“Raylan, it’s probably some stupid kids shootin’ squirrels in the woods. You know how that can be.”

Raylan laughed at that. Yeah, he knew very well. “Well, Boyd, that may be, but there’s also the possibility it’s someone you pissed off.”

“And why, Raylan, wouldn’t it be someone you pissed off trying to shoot us?”

“‘Cause I’m miss congeniality, jerk.”

Boyd snorted at that, but kept his attention sharp. They heard another shot closer, and Raylan draw his gun.

“This is a United States deputy marshal! Come out and show me your hands or I’ll put you down!”

Again, Boyd snorted. Yes, he was unarmed and things could get ugly any second, but damn if Raylan Givens didn’t love the sound of his own voice when he said the words “I’ll put you down”.

They could hear movement over the tree line, and two different voices. Before they could get to the road, Raylan was already lowering his gun – it was, quite obviously, just a couple of boys, most probably from Harlan.

That was the scene: a couple of boys from Harlan, destroying little animals in the middle of an endless night.

Raylan knew those boys.

He was suddenly very afraid they would come closer; that they would come into the light, that he would have to see their faces. His heart was beating faster. This shouldn’t be happening.

Boyd moved by his side, and Raylan remembered he wasn’t alone.

“Raylan, are those… Raylan?”

“I don’t know, fuck, I…”

He knew perfectly well who they were, just not how that was possible.

“Officer!” one of them called, and Raylan turned the light so that the boy would remain in the darkness. To hear that young voice made him shiver all over. “Officer, it’s just me and my friend here. We were shooting squirrels, ain’t nothing wrong ‘round here. If you think that’s reasonable, I’m going to approach you now and show you that there’s nothing to get worried about.”

“You stay were you are!” Raylan screamed back, and realized his gun was once again lifted, that he was aiming for the boys – the things – hearts. His hand was shacking lightly, and he doesn’t remember the last time that happened while holding a gun.

“Raylan, don’t you shoot those boys, you hear me?” Boyd was saying, urgent, desperate.

“Sir, how the hell do you know my name?”

And that was it, because one of the boys that stood a few foot ahead on the road was Raylan. Not a boy named Raylan, but – they knew – Raylan himself, Raylan Givens.

Raylan felt like screaming for a long time.

They only thing Raylan – real Raylan, 40 years old US Marshal – could see were two shadows: two long skinny shadows that stood close to each other, outside the light’s reach. Even if it was just two silhouettes, Raylan could tell for certain whom they were: maybe it was the way they move; the sound of their voices as they were walking to the road; or the way they stood. Or maybe it was something else entirely.

Someone could say it was so much more terrifying to not see what exactly was out there that looked like a young him, but Raylan was much more terrified of staring at its face. He lowered his weapon, feeling weak at the knees.

“Marshals, we ain’t lookin’ for no trouble.” Bo… the other boy said. “If you want us to keep going, we will, and we can all go back home.”

“Raylan” Boyd, by his side, was whispering now. “We gotta see them. We gotta make sure.”

“I am sure!”

“No, Raylan, you ain’t.”

He was, he was one hundred percent sure, but he was also shaking, and Boyd sounded like he knew exactly what to do, what needed to be done. Raylan turned the flashlight on the boys.

Immediately, both boys put his arms over their eyes. There was the Givens boy, young and skinny and holding a shotgun by his side. Raylan, the man, realized with a sense of absurdity that he recognized that plaid shirt, something his Aunt Helen gave him in Christmas when he was 15 and that he kept using even when it wouldn’t fit well anymore. The boy looked like the image Raylan saw in the mirror when he was eighteen, maybe nineteen.

Right beside him, as Raylan always knew it would be, was Boyd Crowder. He wasn’t very much different: more hair, of course, but he already looked dangerous and more than a little crazy by then. He didn’t wear shirts buttoned up in the neck when he was a kid: didn’t need to hide any tattoos.

“Oh dear lord.” Boyd said under his breath. Raylan had the feeling he was saying something else in the same lines, but he couldn’t quite understand his own voice.

Suddenly, Raylan realized why the boys weren’t as shocked as the men were: for once, they had never seen those faces before in their lives, but Raylan would like to believe his teenager self would be smart enough to recognize his own face, even years older. In the other hand, both men were standing behind the flashlight, and the boys weren’t able yet to see their faces.

“Who… who are you?” asked Boyd, and Raylan couldn’t believe he still had to make that question, to make sure.

“Sir, I’m Boyd Crowder here.” Always the first to find the words, now and then. “And this, by my side, is my good friend Raylan Givens. We are miners.”

Miners. So yeah, he would have to be older than eighteen. But what the hell is he thinking, that boy can’t be him.

“I’m gonna ask you only once, and if one of you lie to me I’m gonna get fuckin’ mad.” Raylan decided this shit had to end. “Who. The fuck. Are. You?”

“Sir, with all due respect, my friend already told you. I’m Raylan, he’s Boyd, we’re both from Harlan, anyone here can verify our story. But I suppose your friend already knows me, since he was saying my name not two minutes ago.”

“Okay, this is not going anywhere.” Boyd said out loud. “Boys, please come closer. Not me, or my friend, are going to hurt you, but we gotta show you something.”

Both boys looked like they didn’t want to come any closer, and Raylan was eyeing the gun still hanging in the hand of… well, Raylan. Two Raylans with firearms meet in a dark road in an endless night, and isn’t that the beginning of a bad joke?

“Look, Raylan…” he was sure Boyd didn’t start this sentence thinking about the boy, but since he said the name out loud, he had to re-direct his speech just so the younger Raylan wouldn’t get suspicious. “my friend here is not gonna shoot, okay? He’s an officer of the law; he’s not in the business of shooting kids for huntin’ squirrels.” Lower, Boyd said. “Put the gun away right now, goddammit.”

Raylan wasn’t sure why he was following Boyd’s lead, but he got his gun in the holster anyway.

“Boys, we need to talk to you. This is serious. You gotta trust me, trust us, just for a second.” The boys didn’t look very convinced, or willing to move.

Suddenly Raylan got very tired. If this needs to be done, okay, let’s do this. Rolling his eyes, he took a few careful steps forward, both his hands up and away from his gun. He then lowered the flashlight in the space between them, let it light the four men equally.

Or, as they had already established, both men, in different ages.

There was no reaction as Raylan stepped back. Then, in a beat, the younger Givens yelled “Holly shit!”.

How do you like them apples? Raylan wasn’t looking at himself, but at Boyd.

“Sir, are you… I mean… are you a Crowder?”

“Yes, son. I am.”

“But that can’t be...” younger Boyd was smart enough to look at both man and, by that, was far more scared. Even in the dark, they could see him swallowing, but his voice was firm when he said: “You’re not my kin, sir.”

“No, boy, I ain’t. Just as the man beside me is a Givens but ain’t your friend’s kin as well.”

They were all mind fucked after that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan and Boyd get to talk with the past and understand the present.

Once both Boyds and Raylans were convinced that this wasn’t a mistake, that they were really who they seemed to be – by showing old scars and exchanging tales only they could tell –, they all needed to take a break from the weirdness just to breathe again. The boys sat by the side of the road, the flashlight closer to them (apparently, their flashlight ran out of batteries on the woods) talking in small voices and looking like they wanted to run. Raylan couldn’t really blame them. He wanted to run himself, and he wasn’t a kid.

He couldn’t remember that day ever happening in his youth – whatever limit him and Boyd crossed to get to their younger selves hasn’t been crossed before, Raylan was positive he would remember stumbling across an older version of him. Raylan didn’t suppose any of them were to blame for what happened – he and Boyd used to come to the woods to drink and shoot all the time as kids, and he and Boyd would travel the road between Lexington and Harlan all the time as well as marshal and suspect. There was nothing unusual about them being together in that road, nothing in that scene that should cause such anomaly.

Right now, Raylan was kind of worried if this was a permanent thing – if he and Boyd were stuck in the pass or, more likely, if the boys were stuck in the future. They didn’t seem to think they have travelled in time, didn’t have any recollections of weird feelings, not had they blacked out (older Boyd was sure to question all that), so there was no telling if the boys had travelled in time. Being that as it may, Raylan would like to believe he was still in present day, and not back in the pass. That may be only wishful thinking, though, but he was trying to keep himself sane, so fuck being reasonable.

“You’re limiting yourself there.” Boyd said, next to his right ear.

Oh. Well, okay, so he was talking out loud. Great, this whole experience broke him.

“The thing is, Raylan” Boyd kept going. “this road doesn’t need to be in the past or in the present. Have you consider the possibility it’s stuck in both timelines? Or, who knows, in neither?”

“Well, shit, Boyd, I’m sorry I didn’t watch as many Star Trek as you did, but really, thank you for the enlightening. How do you figure we find out where the hell are we?”

“I suppose the right question, my friend, is ‘when the hell are we’.” Raylan hopped the look on his face was enough to make Boyd cut the bullshit. The man laughed and delivered his point. “But I believe we should be able to tell this at dawn. That should be in a few hours, if it comes at all. Time is still ticking, at least in my clock, but if six am comes and we’re still sittin’ in a dark road I suppose we can tell we are stuck in a no-time place and really fucked. Comes morning, we get down to Harlan and we check. If Ava’s still in High School, we are fucked.”

“And if Ava’s home waiting for you?”

“Well…” Boyd looked at Raylan, straight in the eyes. “then, we might as well be just as fucked, ‘cause I have no idea what are the implications of not having lived the past, Raylan.”

The silence between both men was heavy, up to the point where Raylan started laughing, quite hysterically.

“What so funny, marshal?”

“Damn, Boyd. I’m just wondering how many Star Trek episodes you _did_ watch if you can pull all that from your ass so fast.”

“I’m glad you can keep your good humor in a situation where we are in such a position even I can’t contemplate a good way out.”

Boyd had a point. If he can’t see a way out, then they were fucked, indeed. Given the options, Raylan still thought it was better to be fucked at his own timeline and not in the past.

Even though, being in the past meant he could, maybe, see his momma one more time. Or even Aunt Helen, cranky and annoying Aunt Helen, but Raylan remembers a time where she wasn’t as bitter. Suddenly, his chest hurt of thinking about a time where Mags was still alive, selling marijuana and giving the boys a taste of her apple pie shine in jam glasses. He thinks about Ava running down a street, late for school, a long blond braid, her smile as bright as the sun. He thinks about his mother’s brother, teaching him how to shoot and telling him the mines were no place for a boy like him.

He remembers drinking beers with Boyd in the woods, wanting and fearing, his head light and his breathing heavy, both smiling and talking like they were already old men. Those were nights Raylan once thought would never end.

This night was a strange one, not only for the obvious reasons. Raylan had a feeling that, if he looked up, he wasn’t going to see the stars or the moon, just a black void, like in some dreams, most drawers are empty. It made him shiver and fear the bushes around him, as if waiting for some wild beast to jump out of a nightmare

Boyd laughter, by his side, shook him awake. The man wasn’t looking at Raylan – at least not forty years older Raylan – but at the boys.

“What now?”

“I’m wondering how I didn’t see that. How was I so blind that I could’ve missed it?”

Raylan looked over. Younger Boyd was talking with passion, about something that sounded suspiciously like Einstein’s thoughts at time travelling (and damn, was the boy always a closeted geek?). By his side, Raylan was staring freely, his eyes going from Boyd’s hands to Boyd’s mouth, and back again. There was a small smile on Raylan’s lips, as if he wasn’t sure he should be smiling, but not sure how to stop it.

Of course, Boyd – older Boyd, that is – was right. It was so damn obvious the kid was head of heels Raylan is not entirely sure how he managed to not get stoned on Harlan’s public square.

“Shut up.” Raylan answered, but he was smiling as well. “It’s not like you were the king of subtle.”

Boyd snorted, “More subtle than you, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, please, Boyd! Who would wait for me to finish showering _in the showers_? And who used to touch me all the fuckin’ time, no reason at all? Or, you know, what about the fact that you used to _jerk off_ while I was sleeping _right beside you_? In this same woods as well, Boyd, if you can’t remember!”

“Okay, okay, boy!” Boyd was laughing freely now. “Now, I didn’t say I wasn’t in love, I was just stating the fact that, even as charmed as I was by your scrawny legs, I was able to keep myself from being as obvious as you were. You know damn well I didn’t eyefucked you as much as you did me. Besides, that… _event_ in the woods happened one time.”

Raylan wasn’t sure why his heart was beating so fast. He had come to terms with the fact he had being in love with Boyd as a kid a long time ago, even before he came back to Kentucky. He had also, at some point, realized that Boyd must have felt the same, that that was the only explanation for the boy’s behavior. But to hear it, out loud… this was such a strange, scary night.

Instead, he’s only answer was: “One time I caught you, Boyd, don’t lie.”

“I can’t confirm nor deny those accusations, officer.” Boyd said with a wink and a sinful smile on his lips.

Raylan chose not to keep going down that line of enquire. He looked over at the boys, still talking, now more quietly – obviously, about them. Raylan wished really hard they didn’t have to be fucked about all this. That things could go simpler.

“Boyd… what if we don’t have to be in the same time?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… what if we go our way, and those boys go their way, and we all just… go back. To our ways.”

“Eloquent as ever, Raylan.” Boyd snorted, but then stopped, looking hard at Raylan. “You know… that’s actually quite reasonable. It… could be.”

“Well, I suppose anything could be.” Raylan took a deep breath. “Let’s go talk to them.”

“I thought you didn’t even want to look at their faces.”

“Well, no, but I thought I was meeting the fuckin’ Devil at the time, if you want the true.” Boyd was shaking with laughter. “Now it’s just a skinny kid with a smartass for a non-boyfriend, so I’ll take my chances.”

 

It was damn scary to talk to them anyway. Downright surreal to hear his own voice out of someone else’s throat, to see his own eyes looking back, staring. It made Raylan felt as if he didn’t have a voice, or didn’t have eyes, that someone else had stolen it. Sometimes he was afraid he was going to open his mouth and the only thing that was going to come out was a screech, loud and piercing, because it was simply unnatural that that creature would be him and have his voice.

That being said, the boys were more scared that the men were, as Raylan predicted. For a while, Raylan thought about telling them that this was all a government experiment, that they were really professional time-travelers and that everything was under control. The only thing that kept him from doing it was because he knew Boyd was always capable to tell when he was bullshiting, even at young age. Not an option.

“Why did you lie, then?” the younger Raylan asked, out of the blue. He was addressing his older self, but Raylan just looked at him as if he was crazy. “About both of you being marshals. Why did you lie?”

“I didn’t lie, I am a marshal.” Raylan flashed him his badge, just in case. “You assumed Boyd here was a marshal as well, but that wasn’t my doing. He was just standing there with me.”

The kid looked in a loss of words at that. Well, Raylan figured that was a quite predictable reaction. He could still remember what his life looked like at that age: stuck in the dark mine, nowhere to run, wondering what miracle would come to save him.

“So you did get out?” Boyd asked, looking at his young friend but addressing the older Raylan.

“Yeah, I did.” to the question in the boys eyes, Raylan answered. “Aunt Helen helped me. Well, helped you, I guess. Got out, got to college, joined the marshal service. Got married, got divorced.”

“What happened?”

“It didn’t work out.” Raylan answered, thinking it was a damn good answer, even if a bit cliché: it was fine enough to talk not only about his marriage but also about his life as a whole.

“And he’s a damn good marshal, that you can be sure.” Boyd told the kids, squatting closer to them. “Every criminal in the state of Kentucky has reevaluated his life choices once Raylan came back, and even the ones that keep his wrong ways fear the vision of his hat.”

Raylan snorted, because he could think of at least one criminal that doesn’t fear him, or his hat, in the least.

“And what about you?” the Crowder boy asked. “About… us, I guess?”

Raylan could see that Boyd was looking at his younger version and trying to think the best way to answer that question. Raylan always loved those little moments: the little, agonizing small seconds where the preacher Boyd Crowder couldn’t find the right words. It was like watching a fallen titan, and sometimes Raylan would have to wait a whole year to see it happen. But when it did it was always this gorgeous thing: Boyd always looked like a small child, innocent and lost.

Raylan searched the kid he once was with his eyes, just to see his reaction: they shared a smile filled with pleasure.

“Well, I… we… well, we are living with Ava.”

“Ava?” the two boys said at the same time, shocked.

Now, wasn’t that something awkward. Raylan knew that, by that age, he wasn’t nurturing any serious feelings for Ava, but the whole town knew the girl had a crush on him – including Boyd. Sometimes he would picture a life in his head where he didn’t leave Kentucky, but maybe just Harlan, and he and Ava would marry and have a boy or a girl. It was usually a sweet fantasy, filled with baked pies and sunny afternoons, country playing on the radio all day long.

On the other hand, from time to time – and quite more often than it should happen – he would get truly delirious and imagine himself a life with Boyd Crowder. He knew he wanted, and he knew he couldn’t have it, but sometimes he would picture running away with the other boy and getting everything he ever desired. It were chaotic, crazy fantasies, usually involving fast cars and dirty motel rooms, and what it lacked in dialogues (he never imagined what he would tell Boyd to get him to run away with him), it surely compensate in sex scenes.

Raylan now has to wonder if his younger self is shocked that he’ll not be the one to get sweet Ava, or if he’s shocked that he’s not actually fucking Boyd, since they both were still riding that same road together at night, twenty years after. He can’t honestly remember enough of himself to tell.

“Oh, Boyd, but this is a long, boring love story.” Raylan tells with a smile. “Boy wants to know what he’s gonna be when he’s all grow up.”

“Well…” oh, the pause was so worth this whole mess. “I… we… run our daddy’s bar down in Harlan.”

“Daddy is dead?”

“Yes.” Boyd said, voice neutral.

The boy kept pushing: “And that’s all that we do?” 

“Well, boy, I have to remind you that we are in the presence of a US deputy marshal.”

Raylan rolled his eyes. “For fucks sake, Boyd, you’re talking with yourself here, you’re worried I’m gonna use it against you? What, you want me to stand over there or somethin’? It’s not like I can use this fucking situation in a courtroom, stop being paranoid.”

“It wouldn't be the first time you try and arrest me, marshal.”

“Yeah, but it’s the first time we find doppelgangers in the middle of the night, so I think we can consider it a special occasion.” Boyd kept his silence, so Raylan sighed. “Fine, you want me to say it? I’ll fuckin’ say it. Boyd here ain’t no saint, as you all can imagine. He has more than a couple fingers in every dirty thing going on here in Harlan, and he still loves to blow shit up, but he ain’t no miner, so ya’ll can imagine how that goes. I’ve tried to arrest him a couple of times, since evidence took me that way, but he managed to save his ass just fine.”

That was the moment when one of them should tells the boys about how Raylan shot Boyd in the chest. Raylan tried to arrest him, failed; tried to killed him, failed. The boys should know that, that bullet is important, that bullet is always there, part of what they are to each other; that bullet is with them right now, in the middle of them, cutting flesh and skin, eating their feelings away like a living animal.

The bullet, in a way, shaped what they have, made it so that it would be un-fixable. The bullet marked what they could and what they couldn’t be to the other.

But Raylan couldn’t talk about it, not in front of those boys: right then, looking at their faces, Raylan saw two boys that could have been anything, everything they choose. They didn’t have a bullet; they didn’t have scars they’ve marked in each other’s skin. That boy on the right could lean a few inches to the left and they would be something else, as easy as that.

With that thought, Raylan leaned those few desired inches himself, mirroring the distance it would take his younger self to kiss the younger Boyd. Granted, Boyd didn’t make a move to back away, didn’t flinch or hide from the proximity; but it wasn’t any good. You see, the distance between their bodies was already too big to begin with. They could try, but they wouldn’t reach.

They exchanged some stories with the boys, but neither one of them said anything about the shooting, incapable of ruining the possibility they once were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Gunslingers! Hope you enjoy this little chapter. As usual, many thanks to my beta, shadowolfhunter. She's here on AO3, so don't forget to check her stories out (they're really good)! You wanna contact me, I'm at ohthati.tumblr.com , running a tumblr that is slowing descending into becoming a Justified blog. Thanks for reading it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night is coming to an end, but maybe there is time for a change of heart before dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, gunslingers! This is the end, and this chapter is much, much bigger than the other ones! Also, PORN! YAY! First time writing porn, people, so be aware for awkwardness, this is just like losing virginity all over again. Once again, please notice there while I did re-read this over and over, English is not my first language and there's probably still mistakes all around. If you find any, please tell me, your help is much appreciate. Hope you enjoy it!

Raylan was restless. You think about this moment, sometimes, a crazy fantasy of sorts: what would you tell to your younger self, what lessons you could teach him, how could you make the past easier. But he hasn’t learned any valuable lessons, hasn’t understood life or people in those last twenty years. He didn’t get the girl, or the boy. For all he posed as the fearless cowboy, most of the time he seriously doubted he was the hero of this story.

And even if he had important things to say to those kids (“Hey, Raylan, a few years from now there’ll be free porn on something called internet, so don’t worry”), the only thing he could feel was the wrongness of the night – as if there was some danger just around the corner, as if his life was about to end, or at great risk. It made his heart beat faster and his skin felt wrong. He kept glancing at the clock, hoping the couple of hours left until dawn would pass quicker.

And really, why were they incapable of saying something meaningful right now?

As if on cue, Boyd Crowder suddenly yells:

“Hey, kid! Someday you’ll be drivin’ an army tank!”

The younger Boyd smiles at him, looking dangerous and as happy as a shark in a pool of blood – the Boyd you know.

“That a fact?”

“Yeah, boy, it surely is. And it’ll be just as good as you can imagine right now.”

Raylan, the boy, turns to him as if expecting something. The older man keeps a straight face as he answers:

“You get to shoot Arlo.”

“Hmn.” The boy says, not doubting it for a second. Then he turns to his friend, a smile on his lips. “I win.”

They laughed, and the Crowder boy offered a quick wink to his friend, a lingering hand on his knee. Raylan, watching from afar, got suddenly envious of the intimacy, of the familiarity those two had: the easy way they could smile and talk and touch, and just sit side by side. Something he would never have again, because that was now rotted and dark.

“You boys got many squirrels this late, without any source of light?” Boyd asked, watching them.

“Not much, sir, we didn’t.” Boyd answered… himself. Damn, it was tiresome to keep up with this night. “But Raylan here thought it would cheer me up anyway to shoot some, even if it was just shadows in the woods. You see, my dear lil’ brother Bowman was being kind of an asshole, and since we’re both in the afternoon shift we didn’t think much of spending the night out.”

Raylan thought something about that answer was important: there was something he needed to remember, he just couldn’t tell what. But just when he was about to fully get it Boyd was sighing and talking in a low, grave voice, and Raylan was forced out of his own mind.

“Boys, how old are you? Eighteen, nineteen? I don’t remember gettin’ my hair this long before I was nineteen.”

“We’re nineteen, sir.”

“Yeah, I figured. Boyd Crowder, listen here, because I need to tell you something of grave importance, and I need you to try your best to keep it close to your heart in any way you find necessary. If after this night you’re back home, you must know that, in a few years, the young Ava will be a gorgeous, beautiful flower. Bowman will start to take notice of her, and Raylan will be gone, and you won’t be interested in the least. As the years go by, they will get closer and closer, and unless you stop both of them, they will be husband and wife, and misfortune will be upon us all. You can’t allow that to happen.”

“Boyd.” Raylan said in a warning, but since the man chose to ignore him, he kept going. “Do you really think it’s wise to tell them to change this stuff?”

“Now Raylan, I know what you think about my late brother,” at that, both boys looked startled. “and we may both agree that he was a man of many flaws and sins, Raylan, we can even agree that he had that bullet long time comin’, but do you honestly expect me to just sit here and watch the chance to keep Ava from livin’ in hell for nearly ten whole years goes by without doing nothing? Do you think that’s the right thing to do?”

Boyd was now looking straight into his eyes. Raylan wasn’t crying over Bowman’s death – even though he barely knew the man, he was a wife abuser and lowlife. But Bowman’s death was brought by Ava being beaten up constantly for many years, she had to become a murderer and wash her husband’s blood out of her carpet. When Raylan first met her, after all those years, she was broken and quite lost. If Raylan was honest with himself (and swallowed the bitter taste of jealousy), he knew pretty well that Ava only started healing after she became Boyd’s lover. As painful as it was for Raylan to face it, their love was quite real.

So Boyd may have reason there: Ava never deserved the things she went through over those years. Today, they could support her and love her and take care of her, but they could never erase the pain. Only those boys could.

“Would any of you care to tell us what the hell happened between Bowman an’ Ava?” the other Raylan asked.

“Look, this is a long tale, and I don’t want you resenting the poor girl, especially since she’s not to blame.” Boyd kept going. “But you both should keep in mind that you can’t let them get married, unless you want pain and tragedy all over those two souls.”

“Yeah, and you might consider beatin’ the shit out of Bowman anyway,” Raylan added. “you know, for future sins.”

“Oh, this would be a good birthday gift.” he’s younger version agreed, turning to his friend. “His birthday tomorrow, ain’t it, Boyd? Big party comin’ up.”

And then it clicked. Of course, that was the thing in the back of his mind: Raylan knew what night that was. Both of them nineteen, working on the mine together, on the afternoon shift. The night where Boyd came looking for him after his younger brother had started a fight over… over something inane, like bathroom time or the books Boyd kept bringing home. He had a big birthday party in two days, all the boys and girls in Harlan County were invited, and he was acting like some kind of King. By that time, young Bowman was already a violent man, much more like his father that Boyd could ever hope to be.

Boyd came knocking on his door, and Arlo threatened to shoot both of them. Raylan had half a mind to stab his own father, so he grabbed his shotgun and just said “Let’s go”, jumping on Boyd’s truck. They never said anything about where they would be going, or what they would be shooting, but they were in the woods not long after that. They made a quick stop at Johnny’s, were they played half a game of poker before realizing Bowman was going to be there soon. They got themselves half a bottle of Jim Beam and hit the road.

For some reason, in the middle of the night Boyd’s flashlight went out, and Raylan didn’t thought about bringing any. That didn’t stopped them – going back before morning meant facing both of their families, and they were happy shooting shadows in the dark, sometimes lighting a small fire with Raylan’s lighter, keeping the road close so they wouldn’t get lost. It was a warm summer night, no stars or moon, and the air was still. By three am, both drunk and happier, they got into Boyd’s truck and slept, side by side (and yes, Raylan did hope to hear the tell-tale sound of Boyd’s zipper going down, but after a while of silence and stillness, he figured the other boy had really going to sleep, and got his rest as well).

Came morning, they went home, feeling like they were both too old for those games. They were in the afternoon shift, and met again in the mine five hours after they’ve split. 

And then there was a cave in.

“Boyd, I got talk to you.” Raylan was already gripping Boyd’s arm tight, dragging him away. “Now.” He looked over his shoulder long enough to raise his forefinger, asking the boys for a moment.

“Raylan, there’s no need for such a violence.” Boyd said once they were out of the boys earshot, even though he made no movement to back away. “What’s on your mind?”

“That’s the night before the cave in.” before Boyd could ask anything, he kept going. “You remember this night, you must. Bowman pissed you for being an asshole, and he had that big party coming. You came to my house and Arlo wanted to shoot you…”

“And then we went to Johnny’s, yeah, I remember.” Those details were engraved in their memories not because it was such an unusual night (it wasn’t), but because the next day changed both of their lives.

“So you remember what’s gonna happen comes morning… Damn.”

“We gotta tell them.” Boyd said, without missing a beat.

“Are you out of your mind? We can keep changing things, Boyd, we have no fuckin’ idea how dangerous this can be!”

Boyd didn’t raise his voice. Instead, he took fully advantage of their closeness, turned his whole body in Raylan directions and met his eyes, speaking in the lowest tone.

“What do you think we’re here for, then, Raylan? Do you think it’s a mere coincidence that the universe has defied its own laws and common logic and that we end up meeting our past? Do you think this reunion should be pointless, when we have such a precious and rare opportunity to actually change our ways, son?”

Raylan rubbed his hand up and down his face, two fingers resting in his forehead, the headache of being tired in an endless night finally setting in.

“I thought you didn’t believe in miracles any more, Boyd.”

Boyd smiled slowly, leaning even closer. “I didn’t. But then, I also thought we couldn’t change anything between us any longer. Here is our chance, Raylan, and I’ll be dammed if I don’t seize it.”

“You really think this gonna change anything?”

“Maybe it doesn’t. Hell, maybe we’re still sittin’ in your car and this is all some form of a hallucination or daydream. But I ain’t gonna let the possibility stop me from trying.”

Raylan looked long and hard at Boyd. Of course, he knew what chance Boyd was talking about: the decisive moment where they could have been something else. Over twenty year, Raylan would sometimes remember that day, wonder about it, and try hard not to blame Boyd too much: they were too young, they were just kids, it was hard for everyone. But now he couldn’t stop himself from thinking that, once upon the time, the ball was on Boyd’s field, and he did nothing about it.

Now, he apparently wanted to make amends. By the second time in the same night, Raylan watched himself agreeing to Boyd on something he didn’t thought it was right at first, and if that wasn’t a bad sign… With the feeling Boyd was once again using words to manipulate his will, Raylan sighed deeply. The effect was lost, since Boyd wasn’t paying attention to his dramatics, but talking to himself.

“Well, that could explain…”

“Explain what?”

“Hm?” Boyd seemed to have forgotten he was within earshot. “Oh, yeah, maybe… Look, Raylan, did you feel alright all night? I mean, besides the obvious shock, didn’t you feel like….

“There was some danger around?” Raylan completed. “Yeah, I did.”

“And those were dangerous times. We could have died that day in the mine.”

Raylan looked over both boys. He remembers being nineteen and feeling like an old man, like the world couldn’t teach him anything new, there was nothing else to be seen under the sun. He also felt like he was constantly carrying an impossible weight, and that he couldn’t be more tired, he couldn’t be older. He was wrong, of course, and looking now he could see how much of a kid he was: the easiness around his eyes, the way his body was new and young and fresh in an old world. The way his laugh would come without any effort, without any weight. He didn’t know shit about life or love, and – more important – he didn’t know shit about death. But then comes a cave in, and the mountain didn’t know if he was young or fresh or new: the mountain was ageless. He was about to die.

Boyd laid a hand over his shoulder and, without waiting for an answer, walked back to where the boys were.

 

“So this is going to be the future?” Raylan, sitting with his shotgun on the side of the road, was clearly considering discharge against himself, and not in a suicidal way. “Boyd is gonna lose hair and I’m gonna be an asshole?”

“Sorry to break it to you, boy, but you already are.” Raylan answered, and both of them watched as a pair of Boyd Crowders laughed quietly at his expense. 

“Shut up!” both Raylans yelled at the same time, and really, they were only burying themselves further.

“Look, we gotta tell you somethin’” said Boyd, sobering up.

“Any other catastrophe you wish us to prevent?” the younger Raylan asked, not without sarcasm.

“As a matter of fact, yes, Raylan, there is. My friend and I were talking and we figured when you boys are coming from. We remembered.”

“So? Ain’t nothing new about it, we could have told you the date. April 18th.”

“April 19th, Raylan.” His friend corrected.

“No, you don’t understand. We remembered what is important about this date, what is about to happen tomorrow – well, at least, tomorrow from your point of view, not ours. What will happen will change everything, and neither one of you can predict the future.”

“There’s going to be a cave in.” Raylan suddenly said, tired of Boyd’s ways. “Tomorrow, on your shift.”

Both boys looked, if possible, even more scared than when they faced themselves for the first time. Raylan tried his best not to think about that moment, not to let the terror appear in his eyes, because they were scared enough as it is.

“Is anyone going to get hurt?” Boyd asked.

“No. Everyone’s gonna be okay, and you saved my life.”

“You sure we don’t die on the cave in, and we’re actually talking with our ghosts?” the younger Givens asked. “I mean, you both look like you’ve crawled your way from the depths of Hell, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“Well, you could avoid the cave in altogether, don’t you think?” No, seriously, Raylan couldn’t remember being this much of a prick at age nineteen. “And, you know, maybe be a bit grateful we warned your ass from it.”

“No, you shouldn’t do that.” Boyd intervened. At the “what-the-hell” looks both Raylans gave him, he clarified. “The cave in changes everything. It was only after the cave in that your dear aunt Helen gave you the money, Raylan, the chance for you to escape this town. You gotta take that chance.”

“Well, I suppose I’m going to, ain’t I? I mean, what’s the point of telling me all that if we’re not to change anything?”

“Well, this is not about something you must do, Raylan, but rather something I should have done twenty years ago.”

At that, the younger Boyd raised his eyes, staring straight at his future: the neo-nazi bank robber, the born-again-in-Jesus preacher, the career criminal. Ava’s lover, Raylan’s past. There he was, standing in the coal black night, asking one thing: _don’t let me be this_.

“Helen is gonna give Raylan the money, and he’s going away from Kentucky, Boyd. He ain’t gonna look back, he’s not stepping in Kentucky again for twenty years, you hear me? He ain’t gonna call, ain’t gonna write or come back for you.” the younger Raylan started a protest sound, but Boyd’s voice was louder. “And that’s not ‘cause he doesn’t care, you see, he does care. He cares and he’ll show you just as much tomorrow night, ‘cause the first thing he’ll do after he gets that money is come for you.”

Raylan remembers that night. He was still trembling with fear and excitement, and the day felt like the best and the worst day of his life at the same time, life and death so tangled together he couldn’t breathe. And he knew it had to be now, it couldn’t be another day, because he would be gone and there was no more time to dance around that damn thing between them. So he was there, standing outside the Crowders door, a backpack with all his stuff in it, the gas full, ready. Somewhere inside the backpack, all the money Helen gave him, all the money he had.

(it wasn’t flowers, but then again, Raylan was not sure Boyd would appreciate something colorful after the darkness of the mine.)

“He will ask for you to come with him, Boyd, he’s gonna look for you before he leaves.” Boyd keeps going. “And this time, you gotta say yes.”

“And why would I do that?” Boyd asked, slowly. “Raylan wants to live his life, he must do it, I’m not gonna follow behind like I’m his dog. It’s not like…”

“It’s exactly like that, and you both know it. You’ll regret the decision of letting the boy leave without you for the rest of your life, Boyd Crowder. Trust me, I know.”

“But why…” the boy swallows, looks at his friend, looks down. “Why would he want me…”

“Because he wants you.”

Hell. Raylan was not sure he could take his eyes out of Boyd, but he could see in the corner of his eyes the boy he once was getting to his feet quickly, stuttering and spitting, like someone had suddenly throw a bucket of freezing water over his head.

“What? What the… Boyd, I have no idea what that man is talking about or who the fuck he think he is, but you gotta believe me that… that…”

“Oh, cut the crap!” Raylan wasn’t exactly in the best terms with himself, and wasn’t that just typical? “We all know you’re afraid and that you don’t wanna face the fact that you might be a fag…”

“I’m not!” the boy yelled, and for a second Raylan thought he might feel what his own punch was like, but he didn’t stop on that. Raising his forefinger, he kept going.

“…but you’re not, see, there’s this tiny little thing called bisexuality and once you’re out of this shithole you’ll get to see it plenty. Besides, being a fag or not won’t matter shit once you’re out and…” okay, this is the hard part. “once you’re out and regretting not telling him… stuff.”

Three pair of eyes were on him, and he could tell everyone was judging him, if not for the gay feels, at least for his choice of words. Well. Fuck them all.

“Fuck you, Boyd.” Raylan said out loud to the older Boyd, knowing he was, by far, the more amused one.

“Now, Raylan,” the teen Crowder still sitting on the side of the road started talking, and they could all hear the amusement in his voice as he faced his friend. “for a second there, I had my doubts if those men were really who they said they were, but after such a nicely made speech, I can’t find in myself to question this man’s identity.”

“Well, fuck you, Boyd.” the younger Raylan mirrored the words, without even noticing. “This ain’t a game. I’m not some fag, you’re my friend, goddammit, you should know it.”

“Well, I am.” Boyd answered. Oh, crazy darling Boyd. “A fag _and_ your friend, I mean. And I also have been wantin’ you for a long time, Raylan.” He casted his eyes down, smiling in a bitter way. “But these men are right, I wouldn’t follow you.”

“Wh…” Raylan swallowed. “Why is that, Boyd?”

“Because you’re not a ‘fag’,” Boyd laughed a joyless laugh. “as you so eloquently put it. And because you’ve always wanted a way out, Raylan, since I can remember. I don’t need to come crashing your dream, making you remember this place every step of the way. You don’t want that.”

“I’m…” goddammit, the boy was trembling. Apparently, Raylan was not only a dick at age nineteen, but also a coward. “I’m not sure what I want.”

“Oh, fuck it.”

Raylan had enough of all the talking. He knew that, at that age, he was damn sure he wanted to be with Boyd, but not sure he could handle the consequences. Now, twenty years later, he also knew the consequences of not being with Boyd were way worse than being labeled a fag: the distance of a hopelessly broken bond.

Besides, the first signs of morning were finally coming, and Raylan was slowly getting the feeling that their time was ending. So he did the one thing he thought might convince his dumb twin: he kissed Boyd.

Maybe we should take notice of how hard it was to kiss him. Boyd was far, so very far, he had to take five or six steps to come near, to get close enough to touch. And once he was there, the hand he laid on Boyd’s neck was already something heavy, something final. And then he had to lean forward, feel Boyd’s breathe and the warmth of his skin, his big hands surround his waist. The lips against his lips were almost an afterthought: Boyd was surrounding him so fully he had nowhere to go but forward. His other hand went to Boyd’s face, and he was afraid and shacking, but he remembered he was also putting up a show: so he acted like he was certain, like this was the right and only thing to do. Before he knew it they were kissing with open mouths and starving tongues, and Boyd was firm and unforgiving, chasing away any fear Raylan (nineteen or forty years old Raylan) ever had that this wasn’t what he wanted. It was meant to be a brief kiss, but it was also the first time ever they faced their feelings enough to get to that. So Raylan let himself feel Boyd’s body against his, his short, spiked hair between his fingers, his sharp teeth biting his lips. Before they split, Boyd held his waist even tighter, meeting his eyes with purpose and a fair amount of lust.

Damn.

“Convinced yet?” Raylan asked, slowly disentangling himself from Boyd, letting his right hand do a slow journey from Boyd’s neck to his shoulder to the small of his back. He finally took his hands out of the man, but couldn’t find in himself to take a step away or to stop looking at him, feeding of the small smile Boyd couldn’t hide.

Despite himself, he felt he was growing stupid for Boyd over one kiss, and wasn’t that annoying?

They could see the sky slowly turning into a dark shade of gray.

“I… it doesn’t matter.” Jesus Christ, the boy was stupid. “It doesn’t matter, Boyd, because obviously staying in fuckin’ Harlan wasn’t the best of choices. You’re gonna come with me and that’s final, hell, I would want you to come with me anyway.”

“No, Raylan, it’s not.” The younger Boyd finally raised himself from the ground, deadly serious. “I’m not going to leave my family and my whole life to follow a friend. I don’t care where this road takes me; I won’t do it unless you and I are on the same page, you hear me? You must know that I… that I’m….”

“I know, I know Boyd! I know, and I… me too, okay?” the Raylan that wasn’t awkwardly spitting his heart out couldn’t help but wonder where he had listened to those same clumsily words… oh. “Yeah. Alright. You wanna come with me, you can come with me. I want you to be _with me_ , okay?”

Oh, look, that was easy, Raylan pondered. It’s not like it took the _whole fucking night_ or anything. And let’s not even get started in those twenty something years, please.

Both Boyds were smiling that shark smile of his. The older Crowder walked over and said to the boy, keeping his voice low as if someone else could listen:

“Now, you know where our daddy hides his money, right? You ain’t coming back, kid, so you might as well take it and run the hell away before he even dreams about it. Raylan has enough of an ego as it is, you ain’t gonna be his kept boy.”

Both Raylans snorted at that, and the kid came closer, letting the Crowder men make their devilish plans. They looked at each other in the eye, the night around them dissolving in slow motion.

“So, we ain’t gonna talk about it?” older Raylan only raised one eyebrow, eyeing the kid. “The hat. Clint Eastwood, much?”

Raylan laughed, thinking that this was it: they weren’t scared anymore. They could do it. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Boyd’ll get it for you, before you leave.”

They both looked at the men – crazy Boyd Crowder, fire in the hole, a living explosion. How could he trust Boyd? But yet, how could he not?

“We should go.” younger Raylan suddenly said. “We should go now, Boyd.”

And yes, there was a strange feeling that the time was up, this was the end of the night, of all the strange things that the night could hold. That suspended moment was nearly ending, and the light was coming faster and faster.

“Raylan, I’m not sure we’ll remember all that.” the younger Boyd suddenly said, aggravation in his voice, walking towards his friend. “We gotta remember, Raylan. I want to remember.”

Without waiting for an answer, Boyd stormed up to his friend and kissed him, deep and desperate. The older friends just shared a look, Boyd raising his eyebrows, Raylan smiling openly and shaking his head. A night for miracles, it seemed. Or, at least, for kissing.

“We should go.” Raylan said, emerging from the kiss a little breathless, and whoa there gay cowboy. “We have to get our stuff from the woods first – I think we left Jim Beam and some ammunition somewhere.”

“Let’s go, it should be easier to find now with some light.”

They both walked towards his older selves, and as the teenage Raylan offered his hand to shake, older Raylan wondered vaguely about some old action movie he once saw – was it a Van Damme movie? – where you couldn’t touch yourself if you time traveled or it would cause some sort of painful bloody death. But they all shook hands, looking slightly weird out but kind of okay.

“It was good to meet you” Boyd said, getting ready to face the mine and change his life.

“Well, let’s try not meetin’ this way again, okay? It was enough of a mindfuck for a lifetime.” Raylan answered.

And it was tiresome as well. He took the boys spot at the side of the road, sitting heavily on the dirty to watch as the teenagers walked towards the woods. There wasn’t any doubt now about being stuck in the past or in the future now, some sort of certain had fallen upon them all telling exactly what they should be doing: the boys should leave and the men should stay.

Boyd sited by his side, and as they looked at the figures distancing themselves, they felt the night distancing as well, memories and words blurring. Suddenly, Boyd snorted by his side, an ugly laugh.

“What?”

“Just pondering on your way with words, Raylan. _Stuff_. Stuff? Really?”

“Shut up.” the moment the words were out of Raylan’ mouth, he wasn’t sure what they were discussing, why was Boyd messing with him. They sat there, in silence, close together. The gray twilight seemed so full of secrets, but the air was getting hotter and the light was getting stronger, and the sun was going to rise anytime now. Raylan slapped Boyd’s thigh, firm and loudly, and he did it because Boyd was being an asshole and messing with him, but he did it because of something else as well, something he wasn’t sure what.

Boyd raised his eyes slightly and gave him a small smile, so dirty that Raylan wanted to slap him again. He did, and the moment his hand touched Boyd’s leg, the man caught his arm and guided his hand up.

_Oh_. So that was the reason, sure, it was always the reason; he always wanted to touch Boyd. Touch his thigh, touch his hardening cock, travel his chest with his other hand. He always wanted but he never could, it was the first time he could, the first time he was allowed to rub Boyd’s cock and swallow his small moan while pulling at his hair.

Raylan was suddenly on Boyd’s lap, kissing him hard; because he never had kissed him before, or because he always kissed Boyd, he wasn’t exactly sure witch one. But as Boyd sucked a kiss on his collar bone, biting soon after, Raylan didn’t thought it mattered much. They rubbed against each other, and Raylan pulled at Boyd’s shirt, opening the buttons with closed eyes and clumsy fingers.

As he opened the shirt, getting it off Boyd’s arms, he was surprised to see his left arm clean. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see there: what mark, what ink, what tragedy, but it wasn’t there, not anymore, or it never was there. He bit at the spotless shoulder, licked his way up Boyd’s chest, and came to kiss the spot at his heart. His chest was just as clean, just as unblemished, and the vision of that unbroken body almost brought Raylan to tears. But he couldn’t think of a reason to cry, so he didn’t: he kept licking and biting, scratching Boyd’s back, rubbing against his cock.

Time was traveling weird or Boyd was really a talented man, because the next thing Raylan could tell was that Boyd had found a way to open his pants and sneak his hand inside. And Raylan felt like he could fly just from being touched, Boyd’s hand on his cock a miracle and a sin. The man’s other hand went to his ass, grabbing it first over the jeans and, after a while, giving up all pretense and going to run his fingers in the crack of Raylan’s ass under all layers, pushing the jeans down at the same time. Raylan laughed and raised his head, looking at Boyd.

“You wanna do this here?”

Boyd smiled back and, with a single movement, turned them, putting Raylan under his body and kissing him shameless.

“Ain’t no other place I would rather be, Raylan.”

He couldn’t deny that, just as he couldn’t deny he wanted to have Boyd, finally. Finally, again, one more time, for the first time, he wasn’t sure.

His pants were off in no time, but he didn’t felt exposed, as if that road was a very secluded place. He was still kissing Boyd when he felt a finger in him, barely wet with what must have been saliva, teasing the outside of his hole and then, very slowly, getting in. Boyd was looking at him like he was water and he was a thirsty man, and Raylan couldn’t take it anymore, the waiting, the wanting.

“C’mon, Bo-yd. You gonna fuck me?”

Boyd’s only answer was turning him around, making him kneel on the dirty. What a picture he must be making, cowboy boots still on, the hat long lost on the side of the road, no pants and a shirt tore open, ass in the air and head down between his elbows. It was surely a bad gay porn cliché, but it seemed to be working for Boyd just as well, if the moan and the hard cock pressing against him were anything to go by.

Boyd didn’t ask him if he was ready, just started pushing, so slowly it sometimes felt like he wasn’t moving at all. Raylan felt himself stretch, felt himself open, and he wasn’t used to the pain or the fullness because it was the first time, Boyd was getting closer, his cock so hard and big and Raylan was moaning and his body knew exactly how to open for Boyd, it was his first time and Boyd was touching him, jerking him off and biting the back of his neck, and he was moving so slowly because it was the first time, Raylan’s hands reaching for Boyd and scratching his arms, his knees scraping at the road’s dirty, Boyd huge and thick and it didn’t hurt even though they only had spit as lube because it wasn’t Raylan’s first time, it only _felt_ like it was the first time, Boyd was inside him like all the other times on those twenty years they’ve been together, he was inside inside inside…

“Boyd, Boyd, why…” he wanted to ask why it was all so intense this time, but Boyd was hushing him, kissing his shoulders, fully inside. He couldn’t take it: the pressure, the fullness, the hotness – he was coming before Boyd could move.

The moment of intense pleasure fade and Raylan was still kneeling on the side of the road, Boyd not moving behind him. Oh, correction. His dick wasn’t moving, but Boyd was slowly shaking with laughter.

“Alright, asshole, laugh away. See if I let you fuck me ever again.”

“Now, Raylan, you seem to like it _so much_ … you sure you wanna do that?” Boyd laughed, and Raylan might have a good answer, but then Boyd was fucking him, so thick his cock felt like was dragging on his insides, and Raylan couldn’t remember his own name.

It was still intense, like his body knew how to get fucked but he didn’t. Even so, after coming he feels a bit more under control, though, and he’s now left to be overwhelmed with the notion he’s lying half naked on the side of the road in full day light, while Boyd is still mostly dressed; his cock hanging softly while Boyd’s hammering on his ass with full force and speed; and he has to kneel there and just take it, feeling the bruises Boyd is certainly making on his hips.

He wants to feel ashamed, or maybe even a bit annoyed, but it’s all so fucking hot he just spread his legs more, despite himself.

At least he holds his moans.

Boyd keeps fucking him hard for a long time, as if he wants to make a point to Raylan for coming too soon, or is punishing him for it. Either way, Raylan is not complaining – even if his ass burns, it still feels good, and he would be hard again if he wasn’t so damn tired. And really, why were they travelling for Harlan in the middle of the night again? It’s not like…

“Stop thinking. I’m still fucking you, deputy Givens, so you better pay attention or else.” Boyd whispered in his ear, and actually pulled all the way out, before ramming it back inside with enough force to get Raylan to almost yell. "Almost" being the key word, and Raylan was biting his own lips with enough force to draw blood. Boyd was laughing, the son of a bitch. “Why do you have to be so difficult, Raylan?”

“…else you wouldn’t love me.” Raylan hadn’t meant to say that, it wasn’t even true, and he made a point avoiding saying that word.

“Can’t confirm nor deny that, deputy.” And then Boyd was moaning, stilling his movements and coming in his ass. Goddammit, why didn’t they wear a fucking condom? The mess was already made, and they were still for a few moments longer, breathing slowly and getting uncomfortably warm. Finally, Raylan’s knees couldn’t hold them any longer and he had to make Boyd move. Even so, they both just lied side by side on the road, Raylan only moving enough so he could put his pants back on – the sun was fully out now, and he wasn’t feeling particularly like getting caught having gay sex in a road to Harlan County. His coming back would be already difficult enough without a coming out as well.

“Think your aunt gonna be mad for you not getting in Harlan in time for breakfast?” Boyd asked, slowly travelling his hand up and down Raylan’s chest.

“Not as much as she would be if I showed up dripping come from my ass, don’t ya think?”

“Oh, c’mon, Raylan, Helen could be a liberal woman.” Boyd stated, laughing, while he picked Raylan’s hat from the dirty and handed it to him. They finally got up, and started walking towards the car. “Besides, you got yourself transferred over your own bullshit, now we’re livin’ here, ain’t nothing to do about it, so you might as well meet your kin. And that means Arlo as well.”

“I don’t see you so eager to meet your daddy or brother, smartass.” of course, Boyd only ignored him, but Raylan felt like he had made a point anyway. “Besides, Helen has been waiting for twenty years, she can wait ‘till I get home, take a shower and get some sleep. Whose idea was it to come all the way out here in the middle of the night anyway?”

“We agreed it would be for the best to avoid making an entrance in broad daylight.” Boyd answered, as they got to the car. “Don’t come blamin’ this on me, babe. You were the one procrastinating.”

Raylan couldn’t well remember why they got out from the car in the first place, but good semi-public kinky sex with his lover seemed like reason enough. People often said they had to fight to keep the spark alive after twenty years, but Lord knows Boyd never stopped surprising him, in both good and bad ways alike.

“Do you remember kissing me on this same road, Ray-lan?” Boyd asked, as they got inside the vehicle.

“What, ten minutes ago?” Boyd’s only answer was a slap at the back of his head. “Alright, ouch, yeah, I remember. Our first kiss, yeah, the night before the cave in. ‘Till this day I can’t tell you what possessed me to kiss you.”

“Now, boy, if I remember it correctly, I was the one to kiss you on the first place.”

“Trust me, Boyd, it took enough courage to just kiss you back.” Raylan looked over Boyd, and the feeling they were living all this – their love, their intimacy – for the first time hit him again. Boyd just smiled, full of teeth and danger, a demon and a charmer.

“Let’s go home, Raylan.”

(in this version of this story, they do get home.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it guys! This was fun writing, and I hope I haven't ruined anything. The prompt was great. I hope you guys have enjoyed this ride half as much as I did. You wanna talk to me, find me at ohthati.tumblr.com . And be aware, fandom: JUSTIFIED IS BACK IN FIVE DAYS. Thanks for reading this!  
> P.S.: Is there any squirrels on Kentucky? Dammit, I really there are.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by this article: http://io9.com/5967995/argentinians-traveling-route-5-warned-that-they-may-experience-time-anomalies posted as a prompt at http://nvrleaveharlan.livejournal.com/19896.html.  
> I don't have a livejournal, so I'm posting it here. Chapter two must be on very very very soon.  
> The title (and the lyrics) at the beggining are from the song "Everybody's got to learn sometime" by Korgis.  
> This is really shitty? This is really good? This is kinda of okay? Talk to me at ohthati.tumblr.com  
> THANKS FOR READING!


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